This is My Story
I am a 30 something mother to 3 sons. This is my story and what has made me who I am today. I started this blog as a way to remind myself to look for the joy in each day. This is not an easy task for me to accomplish as I suffer from chronic pain and live in poverty. I use this as an outlet for my creativity through writing, as well. This is the story of my life which has made me into the person full of hope that I am today.
I have 4 brothers, 3 older and 1 younger. Being the only daughter of a divorced mother meant a lot of teasing from my brothers. I spent a great deal of my childhood with my mother’s parents. The times spent with them were always joyful. They would take me along on their trips to Texas to visit their second oldest daughter, my mother’s younger sister. One trip was very memorable because on the return journey there was snow in the ditches along the roadside. I was in awe at the sight and my grandfather was kind enough to pull over to allow me to build my first ever snowman. I tell my children of this trip each winter to remind them that snow does not fall often in the center of Louisiana.
When I was the mere age of 3 I was bit on the face by a dog. He belonged to my mother’s best friend and our neighbor. I was playing fetch with Friend and accidentally hit him in the nose with the small stick. He raced toward me grabbing my face and pulling me to the ground. My mother and her friend rushed me to the emergency room. I remember that while on the way I asked if I would be able to play with Friend after we got back home. They told me that would not be possible because the husband of my mother’s friend had already shot the dog for biting me. I had such a soft spot for animals that I began to weep. I felt guilty for causing his demise.
The year I began Kindergarten was the same year my mother got a job in the lunch room. I loved having her at the school with me and I remember fondly the mornings spent in the cafeteria waiting to go to my classroom. I was a very lonely child and had no one to call my friend for many years. One day in particular none of the children would allow me to place my mat near theirs for nap time. I sadly found a spot in the cubby that held my coat and drifted off to sleep. I was awakened by my mother, teacher and principle. They explained to me that I had not gotten off the bus at home with my older brothers and a frantic search for my whereabouts had begun. I had to explain to them how none of the other children would allow me to sleep near them. I did not and still to this day do not understand why I was treated this way. I was a very pretty child and was very well-mannered. I assume it was because of the scar I could not hide upon the side of my small face.
The rest of my school life was not much different from the first year. I found it difficult to make friends and was teased and hated by those around me. I stayed to myself for the most part just trying to survive the cruelty I knew I did not deserve. I spent a lot of these years in my church’s youth group where I was treated as an outcast. One girl stood out from the rest. She was the age of my second oldest brother. She was the only one who ever tried to make me feel included. Her happy and welcoming face always made me feel better when I felt scared and alone.
At the age of 10 I underwent surgery to remove a golf ball sized benign tumor from my breast. I could not understand the fear I saw in my mother and grandmother’s faces. It took years to pass before I understood that this could have been the beginning of the end of my short life. I am very sure to perform monthly self-exams these days. I lost my grandmother’s mother to breast cancer and my mother’s sister has had a mastectomy with reconstructive surgery after she was found with breast cancer. I was sure to breastfeed my children as a way to reduce my risk of breast cancer in the future, as well.
At 15 as I was watching a distasteful television program about family members molesting small children I had a shocking flashback. I burst into tears as the memory came flooding back to me. I was only 3, and this show I had been watching felt as though it were about me. I was now thankful that I was without the father that had left without any contact. I was so much better off without him. My mother’s father was a much better father figure to all of us. It took a few years before I had the courage to tell my mother of what I had remembered and many hours of talking to convince her there was nothing she could have done to prevent it from happening. I knew that this was just a part of what shaped me into the person I am today.
I gave birth to my first son 2 months before my 23rd birthday. I went into labor at exactly midnight on the 2nd of September. My water broke and then the contractions started. My mother was the one with me. I chose to get an epidural which turned out to be the start of my chronic pain. My son was born at 7:29 am. My mother cut the cord and so began my life as a mother. I breastfed him for 3 years and 3 months all of which was wonderful once he’d gotten the frenulum under his tongue cut at 2 weeks old. I loved never having to use bottles. I did think I had lost this son at 6 weeks gestation when I miscarried his twin. A blood test and sonogram confirmed that I was, indeed, still pregnant. I was overjoyed because I had grown accustomed to the idea of becoming a mother. My next 2 sons were induced, labored and delivered without any pain medication. Both children were born within 4 hours of induction.
Two months after the birth of my son I began having back pain I could not seem to get rid of. It took two years to convince my doctor to send me for an MRI. It showed that I have degenerative disc disease centered where I had the epidural and radiating out from there. It also just managed to show that I have slight scoliosis in my upper spine. I believe the scoliosis may have been why the epidural seemed to have messed up my spine.
Since childhood I have suffered chronic depression. The symptoms come and go and at times are worse than others. I have found that prayer seems to help me manage this condition the best. I have other conditions that have been discovered since the diagnosis of DDD and scoliosis. They are fibromyalgia and 5 bulging discs. The only medication I must take is the gabapentin to help with the nerve damage. Other medications I take only when I have no other choice. I am not a fan of having to be medicated in order to function but, over the years I have come to realize that this is my life and I do what I must in order to be a mother to my children.
Despite all that I have been through in my life I continue to be strong. I will not let my pain and depression define me. They are simply a small part of who I am. I am a woman who sees the good in all things. I see hope when all hope seems lost. I have faith in the Lord above to see me through the roughest times and turn to Him when I feel alone. As you can see I am very much a Christian, a believer in the love and salvation found by trusting the Word of God Almighty as the truth. The truth being that the Christ Jesus is the one and only son of God and the only way to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven is through trusting Him and of giving yourself to Him.
Though I am Christian I also believe in science. I feel that science is man’s way of understanding all the mysteries that God has the answers to. I do believe there was a big bang. I believe that God caused this event when he created the heavens and the earth. I do not claim to have answers or to be able to explain all of how or why. I just know my own feelings of the matter. I do not discuss these things with those who wish to disprove the Creator. I do not have to prove myself to anyone and will not lower myself to argue on matters that are a fact to me. Your opinions are your own and my beliefs are my own.
I have the hope that where I am now will become but another page in my book. I hold tight to my vision of a better life for myself and my sons, where I am not forced to depend on others to take care of the necessities of living. I hope to show my sons that if a woman living in poverty and suffering from great physical pain can find her place in this world, how much greater of a chance they have to find their own place.
I have a dream to one day be in a position to help those who are in the situation I find myself in at this point in my life. I believe there are too many single mothers who feel that there is not one person who understands the pain in their hearts. I don’t know the details of how I might help but, someday and somehow I will. It is my life’s goal to give hope to those who feel hopeless and be a voice of those too afraid to speak.
I have 4 brothers, 3 older and 1 younger. Being the only daughter of a divorced mother meant a lot of teasing from my brothers. I spent a great deal of my childhood with my mother’s parents. The times spent with them were always joyful. They would take me along on their trips to Texas to visit their second oldest daughter, my mother’s younger sister. One trip was very memorable because on the return journey there was snow in the ditches along the roadside. I was in awe at the sight and my grandfather was kind enough to pull over to allow me to build my first ever snowman. I tell my children of this trip each winter to remind them that snow does not fall often in the center of Louisiana.
When I was the mere age of 3 I was bit on the face by a dog. He belonged to my mother’s best friend and our neighbor. I was playing fetch with Friend and accidentally hit him in the nose with the small stick. He raced toward me grabbing my face and pulling me to the ground. My mother and her friend rushed me to the emergency room. I remember that while on the way I asked if I would be able to play with Friend after we got back home. They told me that would not be possible because the husband of my mother’s friend had already shot the dog for biting me. I had such a soft spot for animals that I began to weep. I felt guilty for causing his demise.
The year I began Kindergarten was the same year my mother got a job in the lunch room. I loved having her at the school with me and I remember fondly the mornings spent in the cafeteria waiting to go to my classroom. I was a very lonely child and had no one to call my friend for many years. One day in particular none of the children would allow me to place my mat near theirs for nap time. I sadly found a spot in the cubby that held my coat and drifted off to sleep. I was awakened by my mother, teacher and principle. They explained to me that I had not gotten off the bus at home with my older brothers and a frantic search for my whereabouts had begun. I had to explain to them how none of the other children would allow me to sleep near them. I did not and still to this day do not understand why I was treated this way. I was a very pretty child and was very well-mannered. I assume it was because of the scar I could not hide upon the side of my small face.
The rest of my school life was not much different from the first year. I found it difficult to make friends and was teased and hated by those around me. I stayed to myself for the most part just trying to survive the cruelty I knew I did not deserve. I spent a lot of these years in my church’s youth group where I was treated as an outcast. One girl stood out from the rest. She was the age of my second oldest brother. She was the only one who ever tried to make me feel included. Her happy and welcoming face always made me feel better when I felt scared and alone.
At the age of 10 I underwent surgery to remove a golf ball sized benign tumor from my breast. I could not understand the fear I saw in my mother and grandmother’s faces. It took years to pass before I understood that this could have been the beginning of the end of my short life. I am very sure to perform monthly self-exams these days. I lost my grandmother’s mother to breast cancer and my mother’s sister has had a mastectomy with reconstructive surgery after she was found with breast cancer. I was sure to breastfeed my children as a way to reduce my risk of breast cancer in the future, as well.
At 15 as I was watching a distasteful television program about family members molesting small children I had a shocking flashback. I burst into tears as the memory came flooding back to me. I was only 3, and this show I had been watching felt as though it were about me. I was now thankful that I was without the father that had left without any contact. I was so much better off without him. My mother’s father was a much better father figure to all of us. It took a few years before I had the courage to tell my mother of what I had remembered and many hours of talking to convince her there was nothing she could have done to prevent it from happening. I knew that this was just a part of what shaped me into the person I am today.
I gave birth to my first son 2 months before my 23rd birthday. I went into labor at exactly midnight on the 2nd of September. My water broke and then the contractions started. My mother was the one with me. I chose to get an epidural which turned out to be the start of my chronic pain. My son was born at 7:29 am. My mother cut the cord and so began my life as a mother. I breastfed him for 3 years and 3 months all of which was wonderful once he’d gotten the frenulum under his tongue cut at 2 weeks old. I loved never having to use bottles. I did think I had lost this son at 6 weeks gestation when I miscarried his twin. A blood test and sonogram confirmed that I was, indeed, still pregnant. I was overjoyed because I had grown accustomed to the idea of becoming a mother. My next 2 sons were induced, labored and delivered without any pain medication. Both children were born within 4 hours of induction.
Two months after the birth of my son I began having back pain I could not seem to get rid of. It took two years to convince my doctor to send me for an MRI. It showed that I have degenerative disc disease centered where I had the epidural and radiating out from there. It also just managed to show that I have slight scoliosis in my upper spine. I believe the scoliosis may have been why the epidural seemed to have messed up my spine.
Since childhood I have suffered chronic depression. The symptoms come and go and at times are worse than others. I have found that prayer seems to help me manage this condition the best. I have other conditions that have been discovered since the diagnosis of DDD and scoliosis. They are fibromyalgia and 5 bulging discs. The only medication I must take is the gabapentin to help with the nerve damage. Other medications I take only when I have no other choice. I am not a fan of having to be medicated in order to function but, over the years I have come to realize that this is my life and I do what I must in order to be a mother to my children.
Despite all that I have been through in my life I continue to be strong. I will not let my pain and depression define me. They are simply a small part of who I am. I am a woman who sees the good in all things. I see hope when all hope seems lost. I have faith in the Lord above to see me through the roughest times and turn to Him when I feel alone. As you can see I am very much a Christian, a believer in the love and salvation found by trusting the Word of God Almighty as the truth. The truth being that the Christ Jesus is the one and only son of God and the only way to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven is through trusting Him and of giving yourself to Him.
Though I am Christian I also believe in science. I feel that science is man’s way of understanding all the mysteries that God has the answers to. I do believe there was a big bang. I believe that God caused this event when he created the heavens and the earth. I do not claim to have answers or to be able to explain all of how or why. I just know my own feelings of the matter. I do not discuss these things with those who wish to disprove the Creator. I do not have to prove myself to anyone and will not lower myself to argue on matters that are a fact to me. Your opinions are your own and my beliefs are my own.
I have the hope that where I am now will become but another page in my book. I hold tight to my vision of a better life for myself and my sons, where I am not forced to depend on others to take care of the necessities of living. I hope to show my sons that if a woman living in poverty and suffering from great physical pain can find her place in this world, how much greater of a chance they have to find their own place.
I have a dream to one day be in a position to help those who are in the situation I find myself in at this point in my life. I believe there are too many single mothers who feel that there is not one person who understands the pain in their hearts. I don’t know the details of how I might help but, someday and somehow I will. It is my life’s goal to give hope to those who feel hopeless and be a voice of those too afraid to speak.